


Shield-House

by lferion



Series: Cards [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crackuary, Double Drabble, Gen, Maglor (Tolkien) Through History, San Francisco, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/pseuds/lferion
Summary: The House of Shields is more than a bar
Series: Cards [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832722
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Drabbling in Middle-Earth





	Shield-House

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Silmarillion Writer's Guild February 2020 Crackuary Bingo Challenge. Fill for B-5: Characters in the Club. [On SWG](http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=4348)
> 
> Many thanks to Runa and Morgynleri for encouragement and sanity-checking.
> 
> The [House of Shields](https://www.thehouseofshields.com/story.html) is a real establishment in San Francisco. I think Maglor would appreciate it.

Maglor rarely joined clubs, secret societies, exclusive groups. The Oath had made (still made, sometimes, though he was not at all sure, after all the time and change and everything else, whether it was truly still in effect, or if it was too-present memory that made it pull and press and burn along his nerves) swearing and promising anything difficult, much less the kind of binding formalities such exclusive groups were wont to devise, and then enforce. But this kind of club — where membership was a legal device achieved with a ticket in exchange for coin, that he would happily be party to. Especially when it meant music, and decent drinkables, pleasant company and no-one who cared if they couldn't quite tell how tall he was, what shape his ears were, what language or accent he spoke. Except for the threat of the prohibition enforcers, speakeasies were a delight. And in San Francisco they were well situated among many other delights. A different kind of West than the one he had been born in, grew up in, but in the spring, the hills were no less golden, and the mists were as lovely as those of the Gap had been.


End file.
